


Connected

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Dad Steve, F/M, Fighting, Fluff and Angst, Loki Angst, Loki is an Avenger, Sorry Not Sorry, dating loki, get the tissues, so many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 04:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14324379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: Originally posted on Tumblr (follow me @startrekkingaroundasgard) based on the prompt: reader is steve’s daughter and the only reason steve allows her and loki is because he believes in second chances, but then when loki and reader are on some sort of mission reader dies and loki is wrecked but steve blames him





	Connected

**Author's Note:**

> The reader dies in a fire, guys. If that is gonna make you uncomfortable, please don't read it.

"Come on, dad. You can’t keep me on the sidelines forever,“ you said, rolling effortlessly out the way of Natasha’s attack. You’d been training with her and the rest of the team for years, ever since you were a teenager, but your dad - Captain America, himself - always insisted upon supervising each session. You didn’t usually mind but occasionally, especially when you were in the middle of a major disagreement, as you currently were, having him around meant your attention often wandered from your training

"Will you two stop arguing about this? You’re supposed to be focusing, Y/N,” Natasha groaned as she blocked your incoming punches with ease. You hardly expected to catch her off guard but it didn’t stop you from being disappointed for not hitting your mark. Still, you were a scrappy fighter and refused to give up. That was something you’d definitely learnt from your dad.

Wriggling out of Natasha’s grip, stumbling across the mat and losing your balance as you tripped over the edge of the mat. You looked up and met her gaze, then indignantly huffed, “I am focused, Tash. But I’m also pissed at dad. You agree with me, though, right? I’m more than ready to go out in the field.”

Natasha offered you a hand up, before flipping you over and sending you crashing back down on to the mat. You should have seen that coming, really. Maybe you weren’t as focused as you thought. Narrowing your eyes as she reached out to help you up once again, you reluctantly accepted the assistance, this time prepared when she the assassin moved to knock your feet from beneath you.

Patting you on the back and handing you a bottle of water, she said, “I am not taking sides here.”

"Tash…“ you whinged, bumping shoulders with her as you passed to take a seat opposite your dad.

"You’re insufferable, especially when you’re right.” Turning to your father, Natasha shrugged her shoulders and said, “I know you don’t like it, Steve, but Y/N is good enough to go into the field. Especially with a low key mission like this. Oh. I see. That’s not why you’re fighting about this, is it?”

Even after years of watching her pull information from others, it still amazed you just how perceptive Natasha could actually be. Leaning your head back against the cool mirrors that covered the entire wall, you peered over to Steve, looking away the moment your gazes met. To Natasha, pointedly avoiding acknowledging your dad, you said, “He won’t let me go because Loki’s going. He thinks that I’ll get distracted and do something stupid. But I won’t! Tony finished my suit as well, so I’d be doubly protected.”

"It’s not that I don’t trust Loki, Y/N,“ Steve tried, although you all three sensed the lie there.

It was hardly surprising; no one in the Tower truly trusted the trickster god except you, and the reasons were perfectly understandable. But Loki had changed, at least in the sense that he was no longer trying to wipe out or subjugate humanity. Whenever he was around you, the Avengers saw a different side to him. Caring - sometime to the point of possessiveness, if only when Thor was around - and considerate. It was clear to all that he adored you, which was why they put up with (and had slowly come to support) your relationship. You made him better and, against the understanding of the rest of the team, Loki seemed to make you happy.

"Just spit it out, dad. You don’t trust Loki, even after everything that he’s done to try and change your mind. After all the good work that he’s done for the team, you are still worried he’s going to do something unpredictable that ends up getting me injured.”

"Y/N…“ he tried to interject, but his gentle plea was lost beneath your increasingly fevered rant.

"I can protect myself, you know. Natasha said just as much. And I really am focused. Of course I love Loki but I’m not so stupid to let myself get blindsided by him in the field. I mean, I’ve had you and the rest of the team drilling that in to me since I was a child. The moment there’s any danger, turn it all off. That’s what you said; emotions are a distraction. That’s right, isn’t it? Let it go and focus on the mission. I’ve already read the files. I know what I need to do. Why won’t you let me do this? Is it me that you don’t trust?”

"Let your dad talk, Y/N,“ Natasha said calmly, placing a stern hand on your shoulder to stop you from saying anything else before you crossed a line - if you hadn’t crossed it already. You tried to protest but saw in her eyes that she believed she was doing the best thing here. Her voice a low whisper, she said, "Just calm down, sweetie. You’re ready and he knows it. He will agree so just try not to leave with things in a bad way between you. Alright?”

She gave you a soft smile, something that looked odd (but also immensely beautiful) on her usually harsh features, before turning to leave the training room without another word. Natasha paused at the doorway to make a face at Steve, silently ordering him to go sit with you and sort out this mess. He rolled his eyes at the assassin but did indeed cross the gym to take a seat by your side.

"Sorry,“ you both mumbled in perfect unison before pulling one another into a tight, slightly frigid, hug. You weren’t particularly hugging people, especially not after a disagreement, but it wasn’t long until you both relaxed and allowed the comfort and safety of being close to someone you loved to fill you.

"You know that I trust you, Y/N,” he said as he pulled back, placing his hands over yours. “And I know that you are a good enough fighter to look after yourself.”

"Then why won’t you let me go tonight? It is to do with Loki, isn’t it?“ you asked. The way that his gaze fell told you everything that you needed to know and you could only sigh. "He’ll protect me, dad. I trust him with my life.”

He squeezed your hands and you knew that, despite his reservations, Natasha had been right and there was no way that he’d stop you from going out on the mission tonight. Although you were thrilled that your dad was finally allowing you step up, you hadn’t been prepared for the onslaught of preparation and advice that followed.

By the time the evening came and you were almost done transferring your weapons to the Quinjet, he’d covered every single emergency procedure that he could think of - repeating himself on multiple occasions.

"And if you get injured in any way…“ he said, checking over your suit for the hundredth time. He’d helped you and Tony design it, making sure there were plenty of pockets for all your weapons and supplies, ensuring that it was padded enough to protect you from the majority of damage and, of course, weighing in on the design itself - a combination between of his red, white and blue and Natasha’s cat suit (although yours was nowhere near as tight, since your dad had had a fit upon seeing the first mock up).

"Abort the mission immediately, I know,” you finished for him. Mimicking his posture and voice perfectly, helped by years of practise and teasing, you said, “The safety of yourself and others is your number one priority.”

"This isn’t a joke,“ Steve said seriously, although his expression softened when you apologised. "I’m just worried about you, Y/N. It’s your first mission; give your old man a break.”

Giving him a smile, you heard the lift doors to the launch bay open and felt your grin widening as Loki strode across the hanger towards the jet. He looked incredible as always, but even more so donned in his battle gear. There was something about all that leather that made you feel… Well, feelings that should never be expressed in the general vicinity of a parent.

Loki returned your grin, brushing his hand over your hip as he passed by and sat down in the pilot’s seat. “You almost ready, love?”

"Yep. No! Wait, I need to go get something!“ you practically screamed, vanishing from the jet before either man could say anything. "I’ll be right back, I promise! Start the jet up so we’re ready to go when I get back!”

Staring at one another, trying to work out the reason for your unexplained disappearance, Steve coughed awkwardly and let his eyes wander around the jet for something to do, other than talk to Loki. When the atmosphere between them began so charged that they half expected the systems of the jet to short circuit. Pushing his own discomfort down, Steve said shortly, “Good luck.”

Loki nodded, mumbling thanks as he switched the engines on. The jet began to rumble beneath their feet, the low sound somehow enough to break the tension between them. The god looked over his shoulder and, with a devotion that shocked your father, said, “You needn’t worry; I will bring her back safely. No harm will come to Y/N when I am by her side.”

Before your dad could muster a response, you came skidding back into the jet, breathing heavily. “I’m back, I’m back. You can stop pretending to like each other now,” you said with a grin. Throwing you arms around your dad’s neck, you were surprised just how scared you suddenly felt. You mumbled a quiet farewell to your father, pushing something into his hand and placing a kiss on his cheek.

Noticing how you were wringing your hands together, picking at the edges of your nails as you sat in the co pilot’s seat, Loki reached over and squeezed your leg comfortingly. He didn’t say anything, understanding that you needed to be alone with your thoughts, but that simple physical contact made a visible dent in your nerves.

Eventually, though, Loki’s curiosity got the best of him and he asked, “What did you run back to get, my love?”

"Hmm? Oh!“ you laughed, all your fear vanishing as you sunk into the comfortable seat, even going so far as to rest your feet up against the console. You were sure that Tony would not be impressed to see you disrespecting the Quinjet in such a way but if he knew about half the things that the team jet had seen he’d probably have a fit.

Rolling up the sleeve of your jacket, you showed Loki the bracelet on your wrist. It was made of old beads, the paint almost completely chipped off to reveal the light brown wooden centres, held together by a fraying piece of elastic. Hardly the explanation that Loki had been expecting, you said, "When I was younger, I used to worry that dad would never come back from a mission so made us these crappy bracelets for us both in the hope that it would help bring him home. I thought that they were connected and if the elastic stayed intact it meant he was still safe. It’s silly, I know.”

"Probably, but it’s a sweet thought,“ Loki agreed. He caught the way that your face dropped in the reflection of the glass and immediately regretted his blatant dismissal of your belief. Putting the jet onto autopilot, he spun his chair around to face you directly and took your hands in his, running his fingers over the beads. His eyebrows creasing into a frown, Loki huffed in surprise at what he felt from the bracelet. "Fascinating. There is the echo of magic here. No kind with which I am familiar but it’s definitely there.”

"So I was right? They actually are connected?“

"Well, that seems unlikely being as you are a completely inept sorcerer,” Loki said, earning him a (loving) punch in the arm - which, despite his comment being completely true, he accepted he probably deserved. He had tried teaching you magic before but the one time you’d actually managed to harness any magic at all you’d caused a fire that burnt down half the gym.

Pulling you in to his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and smiling when you rested your head against his chest, Loki backtracked, “But what do I know? As much as it pains me to admit it, there are things in the universe that even I don’t understand. There were many stories on Asgard about invisible ties between people destined to love one another. They could feel the other’s pain or happiness. Perhaps similar bonds can exist for family.”

You snuggled up in Loki’s lap, so comfortable that you could have actually fallen asleep if your mind slowed down for more than a second. Unfortunately, you were going over every aspect of the mission in your mind, obsessively rechecking every fact just in case. The only reason you weren’t bouncing off the walls was because of Loki holding you down.

He placed a kiss on your head and, finally sick of your nervous leg twitch, stood and dropped you back into your own seat. “Stop worrying, my darling. It’s quite exhausting to watch. We’ll be back at the Tower in no time.”

***

"Y/N? Are you alright? Talk to me, darling,“ Loki breathed, his urgency clear over the comms, practically buzzing in your ear. You were half tempted to switch the channel off but knew that would only cause him to do something stupid like drop his own job to try and find you. "Come on, I need to hear your voice, Y/N.”

"I’m here, stay where you are, Loki. They’ve got these guns… They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen,“ you said, crawling behind a computer console for cover. You pulled a small grenade from one of the pockets off your belt and threw it over, burying your head in your knees and covering your ears to try and protect yourself from the effects of the blast. The shockwave momentarily winded you as it hit, leaving you gasping for air.

Ignoring the sharp pain in your chest as you peered over the desk to see the extent of the devastation, you took a deep breath and set about continuing your work on the base’s mainframe. Your job was simple: gather as much information as you could about this small HYDRA cell, while Loki kept them busy on the other side of the building, supposedly drawing their fire away from you. However, it appeared that someone had seen you sneaking round the side and as such the majority of their attention was on you and not Loki.

"Who even wrote this bloody system?” you mumbled, struggling to understand any of the file directories. For one they were in a language you barely spoke and for another they kept directing you away from the files you were searching for. Every time the home screen reappeared, it made you want to scream out in frustration.

Haphazardly copying over as much of the information as you could, figuring that the others could decipher it later, you dived away from the computer as another group of soldiers appeared in the doorway. They too were carrying those weird guns and you were almost out of ammo. After all, it was Loki that was supposed to be doing the heavy fighting, not you.

Keeping as low as you could, you crawled over to a fallen soldier and pulled his gun from his hands. You ran your hands over the side, trying to work out how it worked. It really was like nothing you’d seen before, glowing a weird colour and powered by a source completely alien to you. How strange the world had become in that it could actually be alien.

"Loki,“ you whispered, desperate not to draw attention to yourself. For now you were out of their sight but given a few more minutes, max, they would find you. While you’d be able to take them on one on one, faced with that many soldiers your chances of survival were slim at best. Your voice so quiet that you feared he may not hear you, even with the comms system being as sensitive as it was, you muttered, "Loki, I need backup now.”

Reaching in to your pocket and wrapping your hand around your only other grenade, you pulled the pin and rolled it across the floor. Sacrificing power for silence, the bomb didn’t go anywhere near as far as you’d hoped. Mentally willing it to roll just another metre further, you felt the panic rising in your throat when you realised it was too close. Too soon for you to crawl away, it blew.

The shockwave, far more intense than the first, sent you crashing against the wall and you were only protected from the brunt of the flames by the upturned desks around you. Still, the overwhelmingly intense heat hit you like a tonne of bricks, the tables that had protected you from the blast smashing into you. The force against your body was nothing compared the feel of the superheated metal as it burnt through your suit and scorched your skin, eliciting twisted screams which were lost beneath the sound of the raging fire.

Dazed but understanding that you needed to get out of here now, you dragged yourself across the room to pull the memory drive from what was left of the computer terminal. That in itself was nearly impossible; the small drive having seemingly melted into the system. You pulled a knife from your belt and tried to pry it free, barely even noticing when the sharp, jagged edge tore up your palm. Switching directions, hissing as the movement further opened the wounds on your side, you clawed your way towards the door. 

With just a few more metres to go, you felt a hand around your ankle, pulling you back into the flames. No amount of thrashing could make the man release his hold; it was just too tight. Fighting dizziness as a darkness threatened to take over, your body unable to deal with the exertion, you kicked the man as hard as you could. There was a sickening crack and you ripped your leg free, refusing to look back.

Although you had managed to escape the immediate danger of the fire itself, the smoke was hanging heavily over your head now. Each breath was like swallowing sandpaper, your throat burning as the thick air filled your lungs. Coughing on the soot, barely able to see where you were crawling, you fumbled your way through the hallway, praying that you’d find an emergency exit.

"Loki…“ you croaked, collapsing on to your stomach as your arms gave way beneath you. No longer able to even crawl along the floor, the urge to close your eyes and give up suddenly seemed so tempting. You were so tired and sleep was sounding amazing right then.

As your eyelids fell shut, you felt a tingle around your wrist. It wasn’t like the harsh, pins and needles feeling that was keeping you from moving the rest of your body. It was warm and gentle, pure and homely. Like a million tiny sparks hitting the skin and filling you with light. Slowly that wonderful sensation began to spread through your entire body until you felt like you were floating.

Surrounded by beautiful, swirling trails of light, feeling utterly weightless and free, you wondered if life had ever been this good. You could barely remember ever being so calm. Fighting this seemed totally pointless. Why try to struggle against something so wonderful? Right?

In the distance, you thought you could hear your name being called. The voice was distorted, in fact nothing more than a whisper on the nonexistent wind. It was so familiar but, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t place it.

It sounded sad, though. So very sad.

***

When the Quinjet landed, Steve was already waiting in the hanger. All of the Avengers were.

Doctor Cho and her team had been called and were the first to enter the jet. They closed the bay doors behind them, needing peace and privacy to conduct their assessments without distraction. If there was any chance that they could save you, they’d need space to work. However, it didn’t take long for their examination to reach an end. Their findings matched Loki’s recollection of events. The decision not to resuscitate was unanimous.

Loki refused medical assistance. He didn’t need it. He’d heal naturally on his own.

Transferring the stretcher to the medical wing was a challenge. Steve had fought the decision to move it. He’d tried to push his way forward to see, not believing that what Doctor Cho said could possibly be true. How could it? He’d only seen you the night before. There was no way… No possible way…

It took the entire team to hold him back as they removed the stretcher from the jet.

When he left the safety of the jet, Loki had stood no chance. He didn’t even try to fight back. He simply stood and let Steve take out all his anger on him, too empty inside to conjure any emotion to spur him on and retaliate. He felt empty.

Steve punched and kicked and slammed into Loki over and over until his knuckles were swollen and bleeding.

No one tried to stop him.

Minutes, hours or maybe even days later, he finally gave in. Collapsing to the ground beside the bruised and beaten god, they sat there in the middle of the hanger, completely silent. Neither man was really present. Neither cared about anything anymore. How could they, now that you were gone?

Sometime after, Loki reached into his pocket and handed Steve the burnt remains of your bracelet. He’d found it on the ground beside you, just out of your reach. When he’d picked it up, the magic that he’d felt before was gone.

From his own jacket, Steve pulled out his bracelet, the other half of the pair. Unburnt and intact. He twisted it around in his hand, barely breathing when the elastic snapped and the beads rolled away across the floor.


End file.
